


stealing fire

by lyryk (s_k)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: 8.16, Coda, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-28
Updated: 2013-02-28
Packaged: 2017-12-03 21:36:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/702888
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/s_k/pseuds/lyryk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam needs a good night's sleep.</p>
            </blockquote>





	stealing fire

‘You really shouldn’t pray out loud, you know.’

Sam’s in the doorway, his arms crossed over his chest, hands clenched in his sleeves like he’s hugging himself.

Dean wipes his eyes hastily, getting to his feet. ‘Yeah? Maybe you shouldn’t eavesdrop.’

‘Dude, it’s hardly eavesdropping.’ Sam’s sort-of comeback is a little half-hearted, like he was getting to a punchline that got lost along the way.

Dean tilts his head toward the bed. ‘Come on. Get into bed.’

‘Thought little brothers weren’t allowed to mess up your room,’ Sam says, but he takes a tentative step forward. 

‘I mean it, Sam. You can’t sleep with your head on a pile of books every night. You know that, right?’

‘I don’t sleep at the desk every night,’ Sam protests. ‘I found a couch.’

Dean rolls his eyes. ‘Come on, man. Just do as I say. My room, my rules.’

Saw crawls into bed and Dean follows, spooning up from behind. They tussle a bit with the pillow until Sam gets with the program and lets Dean slip his arm under Sam’s head. His other arm’s wrapped loosely around Sam’s waist, and Sam’s floofy hair is tickling his nose. They haven't shared a bed since before Purgatory but Sam still fits right, slotting easily against Dean, and Dean thinks that maybe they haven't forgotten how to do this after all.

Sam coughs a little, and Dean lifts his head. ‘Water?’

‘No, I, I’m good.’

‘You sure?’

‘Yeah, Dean, I’m sure. Let’s just... just go to sleep, okay?’

‘Yeah, okay.’ Dean reaches over Sam to turn out the light, and then settles back down against Sam’s back. It takes a bit of mild manhandling to get Sam into his arms again, but Sam doesn’t protest.

‘Thanks, Dean,’ he says, his voice muffled in the dark.

Dean shifts a little closer, moulding himself to Sam’s frame. ‘Don’t thank me yet,’ he says.


End file.
